


Long Before It Was Even Fashionable

by kikitheslayer



Category: Veep
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, I guess? kinda?, M/M, Marriage Proposal, i mean as fluffy as a fic abt dan the trash can needing to inflict emotional pain could get, like 1/3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Egan @ some point: "I'll kick anyone's ass for Jonah Ryan. I'll kick Teddy Sykes' ass. I'll kick those interns' asses. I'll kick my own ass."</p><p>Or, 3 Times Dan Egan Fought People Who Were Not Jonah Ryan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Before It Was Even Fashionable

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: one insensitive reference to eating disorders in the first part.

i:

The world of politics was ruthless, cruel. It didn’t care about your intelligence, or your skills, or your hard work. It came for everything, indiscriminately, and if you were one of the masses, the unlucky, then you were more than likely going to be stripped naked and hanged.

That suited Dan Egan.

Then, he was the one being hanged.

Politics had provided an outlet. When Dan had needed to be malicious, to spew vitriol at someone and watch them fold beneath his eyes, there had always been someone right there: an intern, a reporter, Gary. Someone was always screwing up, getting under his skin. And when the whole world was doing it at once, he was always able to find one singular person upon whom he could unleash all of his pent-up frustration.

That was what the government had just done to him. And it didn’t matter that everyone knew he wasn’t to blame, that he hadn’t personally hacked into the census data to target grieving parents. But he was their fall guy, their scapegoat. They had robbed a bank and left his fingerprints on the vault.

Now, Dan was useless. He was in his thirties, single and unemployed. He was political poison. Depending on who you asked, he had between 1 and 3 friends. He spent his days in sweats, drinking beer on the couch. He was the very antithesis of the person he had spent his life working to be. God, he was an American.

And to top it all off, he didn’t even have anyone to be mean to.

\--

Dan hazarded that you were supposed to assume you had something resembling a problem when the chain pizza place down the street puts you on their “no delivery” list. He himself only dwelt on it briefly, deciding the only problem was with the forty-year-old delivery boys who couldn’t take criticism without running to their bosses.

It did present a problem, however. He needed to lash out, needed to yell at someone who deserved it for once. But who? It wasn’t like he could call up his ex-co-workers for a drink and some light berating.

His first thought was, of course, Jonah. Jonah, who, despite all odds and his better judgement, Dan was still in contact with. Jonah, who, in Dan’s phone, somehow had shit like a contact photo and his full name, not just “HuffPo Asshole #7” or “Sen.Rich’s Grating Intern (Blonde).”

But somehow, Dan didn’t actually feel like picking a fight with Jonah. He tried once, his thumbs hovering over the keys, but his heart wasn’t in it. First, because fights with Jonah were too intense, too frustrating. Dan didn’t have the energy. He felt like screaming at someone who would cower in a corner and take it, not volley back.

Second, because for some unknown reason, Jonah actually didn’t always suck these days. They’d fucked once, right after he’d been fired, but other than that their only contact had been the prickly texts Jonah sent him semi-frequently. Shit like, “There’s a job opening under Davis. Monkey could get it. You might have trouble,” or “Did you eat today? You already act uncannily like an anorexic teenage girl, don’t help the image.”

It kind of creeped Dan out that they didn’t make him want to track down Jonah and punch his lights out in an alley. They might almost make him miss him, if, you know, Dan was the kind of guy who missed people.

He chocked it up to his mind playing tricks. Something about an influx of blood now that he didn’t have to crane up his neck to see Jonah’s stupid face eight thousand times a day.

At least it helped him come to a decision. If Dan was going to be stuck feeling annoyingly benevolent toward Jonah, he was going to use it to be nasty to somebody else.

He found Teddy Sykes’ email easily. After that it was only a matter of making a new one and painstakingly crafting his letter. It couldn’t be too revealing. It would have to be vague enough to be read as from someone else, say a disgruntled member of the public. The only tip-off would be how well written it was, how every line had seemingly been soaked in gasoline and set ablaze, searing into Teddy’s flesh and insecurities.

It took, like, twenty minutes.

The annoying part was, of course, that he couldn’t watch the emotional damage set in. He took some comfort, however, in knowing it was out there, patiently waiting to fuck up Teddy’s day.

ii:

Dan had been on edge all day. He was too busy, his coffee was too cold, the people around him were too stupid.

He and Amy were pacing the White House halls together, arms full of documents, deep in a heated discussion about the potential ramifications of a misspeak Mike had made, when he caught a snippet of a conversation from two interns.

He lightly tapped Amy on the arm. She stopped. “What?”

He held up a hand, stood in deliberation a moment longer before marching over to where the aides were standing and fixing them both with a glare.

They stopped, looked up, shifted uncomfortably. “Sir?” hazarded the taller of the two.

Dan took a sip of his coffee. “I’m just an observer, fly on the wall. Please, continue.”

“Dan,” said Amy, behind him, trying to keep on a placating smile, “we don’t have time for whatever fucking mind games you’re trying to play, okay?”

They ignored her. The second boy swallowed, started, “So, anyway, the Veep is, um, looking for a new receptionist, you know, and I have a friend who I think--”

Dan shook his head. “Nope. Stop trying to bullshit me. I invented bullshitting. You’re only going to embarrass yourself.”

The interns exchanged a look.

“No one want to talk? Come on, as stupid as you look, your short term memories can’t be this bad. I believe I heard you saying something about how Congressman Ryan is a fucking idiot asshole who should die in a fire. Sound familiar?”

“Dan, Jesus--”

He pushed on. “Strong words for someone who’s main job description is being the same blood type as the president. The only thing you needed on your resume was a pulse and three functioning brain cells, and you still managed to limbo under the requirements.”

“Sir, I--”

“Don’t interrupt me. The rule is you don’t get to disrespect people more important than you until you’ve done literally anything to prove that you’re a bigger asset to the planet than the plants and small mammals that die everyday when you walk by with the cloud of body spray you call a shower. When people complain about American politics, it’s because they let people like you--”

Amy stepped forward. “Excuse me,” she said, grabbing Dan’s arm tightly. “He’s just working through some stuff right now.”

“Amy, don’t you dare--”

She said through clenched teeth, “Someone is filming you, asshole.”

He fought that guy, too.

\--

“You _defended his honor_ ,” Amy said later.

Dan groaned. “Shut the fuck up. I just don’t like the idea of anyone their age thinking they’ve seen the annoying parts of Jonah Ryan. They didn’t live through 2012 when he sent everyone with a West Wing email address those fucking block-text memes.”

“Deflect all you want, Dan, a couple years ago you would have _promoted_ those kids.”

“Look, will you just drop it? I needed to be mean to someone, and I was. This has _zero_ to do with Jonah. Now can we just focus on the fact that Mike needs to be fucking flayed alive?”

Amy stopped walking.

He sighed. “What?”

“You’re not going to go all Zorro about Mike if I agree, are you?”

“Oh, fuck off."

\--

The video mostly made its rounds among the staffers old enough to understand why it was hilarious, then faded to a distant memory. It found its permanent home on Jonah’s iCloud, from which he periodically sent it to Dan in response to an insult, usually with the caption “Don’t disrespect people more important than you, Dan.”

iii:

The evening was perfect. They had eaten dinner and were enjoying a walk along the river. It was dark, but warm. The path was deserted, and it was just the two of them, the moon, and the light filtering from the yellow lamp posts.

In short the location was perfect. The ring, which weighed heavy in Dan’s pocket, was perfect, too. He had even already had the obligatory panic attack and weeks of plaguing self-doubt.

(Because it was progressive, he reminded himself, because it was a good career move, and Jonah wanted it, and Dan secretly wanted it, too, and because they were _ready_ , dammit.)

The only thing left standing between him and Jonah and being engaged was Dan’s own fucking personality.

“Hey, you okay?” said Jonah suddenly, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Dan paused, too, opening his mouth to say fine, and then changed his mind at the last moment, blurting out the words before his brain had time to stop him. “You want to get married?” 

He felt a sudden, familiar wave of panic, suddenly very aware of his body and his surroundings and the fact that he was supposed to be the iceman and shouldn’t he be down on one knee and --

He looked down quickly, frantically rifling through the pockets of his coat. “Wait, shit, I’m doing this wrong, I swear I have a fucking ring -- Fuck, just hold on--”

Jonah kissed him.

When he pulled back, he said, “This is gonna kick ass, just you watch. I am going to marry the _fuck_ out of you, Dan--”

Dan kissed him.

(As usual, once the dust cleared, everything went back to normal, and Dan went back to primarily fighting Jonah. 

“I don’t care about tradition, Jonah. I’ve seen you dance at weddings, and you are not dancing at ours.”

“Jesus, I’m going to _divorce_ the fuck out of you, too.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.”)


End file.
